Live through the flames
by EnishiYukshiro
Summary: The fate of a young girl is changed when Hellmaster decides to get involved.


Living through the flames  
  
By: EnishiYukshiro  
  
Disclaimer: Theses characters do not belong to me. Nope, not even the original one. The original character belongs to my friend who created her. I just extended a little story she wrote into well…a long story. So no suing allowed! I gave the disclaimer .  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
The light in the room was low. It always had been. There were no windows to let in the sunlight. Opening the door only ushered in more darkness accompanied by a rush of cold, musty air. Candlelight was the only light this room received. Usually only one candle. Thus, the light was always low.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
The air was old. It smelled of sickness. There was never any circulation in the room. The nuns had to wear masks when they came in now. They did not have to at first. It had not been this bad at first. Now the air was thick and rancid. All old. All stale.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip...  
  
The single candle was sitting on a wooden desk beside the bed. The bed, the desk, and a small wooden chair. These were all the furnishings the room had. There had never been anything else. Nothing but those three pieces of furniture. No more, no less.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip...  
  
Sounds. There were a few. The candle made a low sound sometimes. That of the flame as it danced around the wick. The flame was always small. The air in the room…it kept it small.  
  
There was always breathing. It was always loud and ragged in her ears. Her own breathing. At first she had not noticed it. It had been shallow and regular. Normal. Now it was labored and wet. She coughed occasionally. That was a sound too. Of course there was the leak in the corner. She did not know how long it had been going. Maybe forever. Yeah…that's it. Forever.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
She wondered from time to time if she was mad. It was entirely possible. Who wouldn't go mad down here? She was in a holy hell. That's what she though of it as. It was inside a church, dedicated to the dragon gods. The embodiment of good and holiness. Yet it was hell. It could really make a person bitter against religion. It had sure worked on her.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
A thought occurred to her. She was to have a birthday soon. She was not sure when, but she knew it was soon.  
  
When she first arrived she had a little parchment and a charcoal piece. She had kept track of the days that way. She had before she had grown too weak to care that is. She did not know how long ago that had been. She had stopped keeping track of the time. But she did remember that the last time she had checked her markings it had been close to her birthday. It might be a week away, it might be a month away, and it might have already passed.  
  
She did not care anymore.  
  
Little did she know that her birthday was today.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
She remembered…she remembered it had been close to her birthday then too.  
  
She remembered the fire. She remembered the running. She remembered the blood…  
  
"We don't have anything to do with this!" Tess pleaded. She clutched onto her ten year old daughter in despair. "We don't have anything to do with this! Please!"  
  
The solider looked upon the woman with cold, cruel eyes. In his hand was a sword. The light of the sun glinted off the weapon, blinding her. She was a commoner. Her husband was a merchant. They had nothing to do with the war here. The soldiers had invaded their kingdom and done, as they liked. They killed when they liked. They stole when they liked. They raped when they liked. Right now they decided they liked her.  
  
One of her neighbors had been the kindly old woman that she considered a part of the family. Every year, she joined them for Christmas. They had dinner with her often. She was like a grandmother to her daughter. They exchanged recipes and gossip of the town. They had been close friends. Now the old woman's body lay in her house, impaled through with a soldier's weapon. The poor old woman had never stood a chance.  
  
Her other neighbor had been the slightly obnoxious loud mouth middle-aged man. He was slightly rude as far as his table manors had gone. He loved to laugh and considered her family a good friend. She considered him a friend as well, although she did not always want him around. He was good for a laugh always. He had always been stubborn as well. That had killed him.  
  
The enemies invading their lands had no use for old women or stubborn men that tried to fight for their freedom instead of being taken as slaves. Her husband lay dead a few feet away from her. He was also stubborn. He had not wanted his family to be hurt. He had tried to fight the soldiers as they invaded his home and made advances on his wife. They had cruelly killed him as well.  
  
Now Tess was left alone to defend her ten-year-old daughter. She clutched her with the desperation only a mother can have. She would not let them hurt her daughter.  
  
"Shut up!" One of the soldiers commanded. Obviously they though she was not worth the troubles she was giving them. She was wrenched from her daughter's grasp. The young girl gave a terrified cry of protest and reached for her mother. Another solider held her back. Blood spilled onto the floor in a shower as the sword was thrust through her mother's chest  
  
.  
  
She could still hear the last scream her mother gave before she died. She could call up that memory easily. It haunted her to this day. She would never be able to forget it. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered. She was going to die soon after all. It was all going to be done with.  
  
"Happy birthday…to me. Happy birthday to me." She sang softly to herself. She only half realized she was singing it. "Happy birthday dear Rhea…happy birthday to me."  
  
Tears came to her eyes as the song ended. She wanted it all to end. She was ready.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
Fire. There was fire now. She saw it. It seemed to be all that she saw. The mad dash in the night was all a blur to her. All she was able to recall from that night was the fire. It entranced her. Drew her in. She could not turn her gaze from the fire as they ran. She was in the arms of the woman who lived next to her.  
  
Their own army had returned in full force. They responded to the attack against their people with a vengeance. They attacked the other army fiercely. The opposing army had set fires. Such beautiful fires…burning everything…engulfing everything. That night was nothing but fires.  
  
They had made their escape while it was still an option to do so. The neighbor woman had discovered the child and taken her with her. She had two others with her that night. Only one died on the way out. Her brother was still with her as was the little girl from next door. Her husband was not. Still, she pressed on until they made it past the gates of the city and out into the open lands beyond the kingdom.  
  
From there, they had kept to the woods. For along time she could still see the red lights behind her as they ran. It grew dimmer the farther they got, but it was always there. The night sky blazed.  
  
Coughing filled the room. She shook in pain with the violent spasm. It lasted for several minutes. Blood and phlegm rose in her throat. Blood ran down her chin and stained her clothing and sheets.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
Tears ran down her face still. She hardly noticed them. She wanted so much to die. She felt so horrible. Her body hurt, her head heart, her heart hurt.  
  
She had always felt so trapped in the church. The priests and priestesses never let her do anything. Everything seemed to be a sin. She did not understand it. As she grew she began to resent the place. She had been left here shortly after they had left the kingdom.  
  
The people who rescued her had sought refuge here. They stayed for a few nights to regain their strengths. They had been on their way then, heading for their parents house two kingdoms away. They had not wanted to take the child with them. That would have been too much of a burden on them. The church agreed to take the child and let her stay with them. She hated it.  
  
She was too much of an independent person to stay in this place. She wanted to do things her way, not the church's way. She hated going to service as well. It bored her. She often snuck away only to be punished for it later. She had no friends. She hated it.  
  
She wondered when was the last time someone had come to check on her. She wondered in her delirium if they would bring a cake. It might be coming early, or late, or right on time. She was sure it would be early. She did not think they would forget her birthday. Even though they did every other year. She felt that they were going to try and make it up to her this year with a big beautiful cake. It would taste so wonderful even though she would be too sick to eat any of it. It was the thought that counted after all.  
  
Or maybe they would give her presents. She had gotten a few of those over the years here. Nothing she liked. Holy books and relics. Some tools of white magick. Nothing she could ever use, but then again it was the thought that counted. She had never gotten a cake however. She wanted one. She would not be able to eat it however. She felt bad for that. But it was the thought that counted. She wanted a cake. No…for her birthday she wanted a present instead she decided. She wanted someone to give her death. Yeah…that would be nice. So nice to die.  
  
When she had fallen sick no one had been surprised. They thought it was punishment for her wild nature. She had been put a room in the back of the church. No one ever visited her. She was brought food and water, but that was all. They never stayed very long. They were all afraid of catching the same sickness she had.  
  
There she was left to suffer on her own. The loneliness was maddening. She grew weaker and weaker as time went by. Eventually she could not even gather the strength to rise from bed when they brought in her food. Soon after that she did not even want the food. She was beyond it. She knew she was going to die.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
That sound had haunted her since she was brought here. The leak in the corner was always going. She did not know where it came from. She only knew that it was always there. The maddening dripping sound. Day in and day out. All night long. It occupied her dreams. It invaded her nightmares. Sometimes she could tune it out. Often times she could not. She wondered what the world would be like without the dripping. She tried to remember a time without it. It did not seem to exist.  
  
"Happy birthday dear Rhea." She whispered again. "Make a wish."  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
**  
  
The whole situation was so funny to Hellmaster Phibrizo. That of humans. They did not realize they were so amusing. Hellmaster found great amusement in the species. They went about their short lives with such determination. They pretended that things they did were important. It was funny. Nothing they did was important.  
  
Now the things he did…they were important. He was the leader of the five dark lords. The highest mazoku there was save for Ruby Eye Shabaranigudu himself. He was much more important that the humans and he loved it. He loved holding that knowledge. He reveled in it. It made him arrogant. Still, he did not care. It was fun.  
  
He roamed the streets in his human form. His human appearance was that of a child. It was so much fun to see that the people did not suspect him at all for this. They were so stupid to be fooled by such trivial things as appearances.  
  
This town smelled of death. It had drawn Hellmaster to it. He felt a powerful aura around this sense of coming death. Not the person who was going to die, far from it, but the emotions harbored in that human were enough to draw any mazoku nearby to it. He debated with himself over the matter as he roamed the streets. He did not usually investigate such things. Then again, he had nothing better to do. The emotions coming from the human were so strong that he was feeding off of them from here. He did not know what had happened to cause such bitterness, sadness, hate and misery, but it would be interesting to find out. In the end, the mazoku lord's curiosity won over. He disappeared from the street, unnoticed.  
  
**  
  
The room contained a girl. Hellmaster took little notice to the few pieces of furniture the room contained. He took little notice to the single candle trying its best to keep the flame lit, refusing to go out yet unable to grow.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
The sound irritated him but that too was easily ignored. What he was drawn to was the girl. She had such a sense of death about her. The sickness was thick in the room and Hellmaster wondered if a demon could grow from the presence of the sickness itself, never mind the emotions. He did not doubt it. It was strong enough. The girl would probably be dead within the hour. Then again she might last for another week. He never could tell with humans.  
  
She appeared to be around 16 in human years. Her skin was a sickly yellowish color. Her hair was a dull brown that appeared to be dead. One could easily take her for dead if they looked at her. Then again humans did base so much on appearances. He did not. He knew she was alive.  
  
A horrible low sounding groan escaped the girl's lips. She grasped the covers and turned slightly in her troubled sleep. She was not able to move very far. She did not appear to have the strength. That was something he could believe on appearances.  
  
"I wonder." Hellmaster said to himself. The girl did not respond to his musings. She did not seem to notice that he was even in the room. "Yes, I'll see. And if she refuses she'll just have to die."  
  
He dragged the single chair in the room to the girl's bedside. He studied her for a moment before continuing.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked.  
  
The question actually directed at her seemed to cause a reaction. The girl opened her eyes that were clouded in pain. She swallowed painfully and her eyes tried to focus.  
  
"Rhea." She responded. Her voice did not reach above a horse whisper.  
  
"Are you going to die?" Phibrizo asked.  
  
That was a meaningless question. It was obvious she was going to die. He wondered if she knew that she was. That is why he asked. He knew humans to be horribly stupid. The girl responded with a weak nod, apparently unable to find her voice again. Phibrizo touched the girl's forehead. Her eyes widened slightly in shock at his actions.  
  
"I can save you."  
  
**  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
Was it time? Was the cake here? How about her present?  
  
She groaned softly and rolled over in the bed. She wanted to sleep. She might have slept. She did not know. Her head hurt.  
  
She felt that someone was in the room with her. She did not bother to look at them at first. They said something but she ignored it. They probably weren't talking to her anyway. They never talked to her anymore.  
  
Should I tell them it's my birthday? No…let them remember on their own. They don't care anyway. I probably won't be getting a cake.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
That voice was now directed at her and she could tell. It penetrated her haze of sickness and madness. It was an easy question. She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. Her throat was dry after not drinking anything for so long. She wanted some water.  
  
Yes…water would be so much better than cake.  
  
"Rhea." She answered.  
  
"Are you going to die?"  
  
He's here to grant me a wish?  
  
A birthday wish?  
  
"Yes."  
  
The boy moved forward (for she could now tell that it was a boy. A young boy at that) and placed a hand on her forehead. Her eyes widened in shock at this unfamiliar sensation. No one had dared to touch her since she was brought into this room. They had all been so afraid they would catch the sickness themselves. Was he not concerned with getting sick?  
  
"I can save you."  
  
Save?  
  
He's not here for my birthday?  
  
Will there be a party?  
  
A look of confusion crossed her face. Her mind struggled to comprehend the idea. Finally she realized that he talked as if her life could be saved.  
  
Impossible…  
  
"How?" She asked.  
  
"I could kill you and you would be reborn as a mazoku. You would live forever as my servant."  
  
Impossible…  
  
Here to grant my wish?  
  
Birthday wish?  
  
Is it my birthday?  
  
"What are you?" She asked.  
  
"I am Hellmaster Phibrizo. Servant of the dark lord Shabaranigudu." He replied.  
  
Her face softened into a look that almost resembled pity.  
  
So young.  
  
Looks so innocent.  
  
"A child a dark lord? How?" She asked.  
  
"This is not my true form." He said, waving the question off with an air of nonchalance. "I can take whatever form I wish. I use the form of a child to fool you humans."  
  
Do I get a wish?  
  
"Your time is short. Do you want to become my servant? I need a new general."  
  
He's so kind.  
  
Cares…  
  
I wish…  
  
I wish for…  
  
She closed her eyes. She wanted the pain to end. She wanted the suffering to go away. She had wanted death. Now she was presented with a chance for a new life. She liked that option a lot better. She had not thought that an option before. It had not been one. She would be gaining power. She would be sinning. Sinning? Against this holy hell?  
  
I want…  
  
"Yes." She agreed.  
  
**  
  
A smile lit Phibrizo youthful features. A delicate looking dagger appeared in his hands. Without a second thought he stabbed the blade through the girl's heart. Her eyes flew open in shock and a small gasp escaped her. Slowly her hands reached up to clutch at the mortal wound. Phibrizo remembered that this act held some significance to humans.  
  
"I told you I had to kill you." He said, reminding her. He took the patience one takes with an infant. He thought she stupid enough. She was human after all. That would not matter. Once she was mazoku she would see the whole world in a different light.  
  
She closed her eyes. Small gasps of breath were escaping her in a panicky manor. Hellmaster wondered at this reaction. He could tell she was holding on to her life. He wondered why. It never crossed his mind to think she may be afraid.  
  
A dark crimson color quickly spread over the sheets. Hellmaster watched the blood soak the sheets, marveling at the beauty of it. He had always liked to see humans bleed. It was such an interesting thing.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
He pulled the dagger from the girl's chest and the thing disappeared back to the nothingness from which he had called it. The dark lord put his hands on the chest of the dead human and closed his eyes. He had not dropped his smile.  
  
A blackish purple light enveloped the body. It glowed into it and became one with it. The sickness was vanquished from her body. Her form wavered for a moment becoming transparent, unstable. The dark light glowed brighter, almost blinding.  
  
A new gasp escaped the girl. Her eyes widened in shock at the feeling of new life. The eyes that opened were now a deep blue shade. They were vibrant, full of life and color. The pupils were slit like cat's eyes and were just as enchanting as those of a feline.  
  
Her form began to solidify. As it did so, it changed. The hair was now longer and flowing with the power and a healthy grace. The hair was a deep shade of enchanting blue. Each lock of the silky hair shone and swirled around the body as the power continued to flow.  
  
The face of the young girl matured. The body developed right before his eyes. Yet if one did not know better they would have just said it had always looked that way despite watching the miracle happen before their eyes.  
  
Phibrizo backed away from the bed and waited. The form regained its solidness. Only this time it was an illusion. An illusion that could be seen, touched, smelled and tasted. A most wonderful illusion. However her real body now lay on the astral plane. She got up from the bed and threw the offensive sickness ridden covers to the floor. Her eyes were wide open and startlingly clear.  
  
**  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
She stood unsteadily for a moment. She tried to adjust to the fact that she was standing again. Power flowed through her now. Power as she had never felt before. It called to her, beckoned her to use it. It was at her disposal.  
  
Her body felt graceful and lithe. She was strong. She could do anything. She felt confidence and wonder. She had access to the astral plane. She knew that she could enter exit it as needed. That too was at her disposal. She felt invincible. She could do anything.  
  
When she came back to herself she looked over at the mazoku in the form of a child who stood before her looking extremely proud of himself. She knelt before him immediately.  
  
"Master Phibrizo." She said obediently.  
  
She owed him everything. He was her savior. He was her angel. He was the one she would now do anything for. These incredible feelings she had. The power. The salvation. It was all him.  
  
"Good." He praised. He sounded like he was praising a dog that just performed a trick correctly. "Now your clothes."  
  
She had grown from a sixteen year old body to a twenty five year old body in a matter of minutes. Her old clothing was ripped in several places and tight fitting everywhere else. With a snap of his fingers Phibrizo replaced the old outfit with an aqua shirt and matching pants outfit. It suited her well and fit tailored to her body with perfection. White gloves ran up to her elbows and her black boots stopped at mid thigh. Both were made from the finest leather.  
  
"Do you want to have you're revenge on these people?" Hellmaster asked.  
  
"Yes." She responded. Her voice was cool, calm unwavering and held a note of darkness to it.  
  
Drip…Drip…Drip…  
  
The sound was lost to her. Unimportant. Forgotten.  
  
"Then you will have it."  
  
Both disappeared from the room. Where Hellmaster Phibrizo went she followed. She felt it would always be.  
  
**  
  
Fire blazed around the church. People screamed. People died in the holy sanctuary and there was no escape. The flames lit up the night sky a brilliant red color. It could be seen for miles.  
  
She had caused it all. She had done it with a smile. She laughed.  
  
"Feel my wrath." She whispered sadistically.  
  
More unholy fire reigned down upon the people. More screams rose from the flames. There would be no salvation for them. Not like there had been for her. They would all die. She would see to that.  
  
Flames danced in the night air. They roared and blazed and spread across the town. The church was gone now. Engulfed in her wrath. Her revenge. The vision would stay with her forever. She smiled.  
  
The end  
  
Authors notes: Ok, here is what I have to say about this story because kami knows that I always have to say something. There was symbolism here that was probably not too noticeable. I know I always go 'oh wow! That's neat!' When I hear about stuff like this so I figured I'd explain it. That annoying Drip…Drip…Drip…playing through the story was supposed to represent her life then. The constant reminder that she was trapped, dying and living with the memories. So when she destroyed the church there was no more dripping thus she was not always reminded of it. This started out as an idea to put some kind of dripped pipe always in the background and the idea would not leave me alone. So I figured out the symbolism for it halfway through the story. I still think its cool in itself. ^_^ 


End file.
